Clarisse stepped out of the limo, and out of the woman she had been, and back into the Queen of Genovia. Rupert's boisterous voice was certainly not humble, and to Joseph it was not what he had looked forward to. He tried to dwell on her words, but knowing she had not yet really spoken to Rupert, he wasn't sure how to act. He fiddled with his fingers, wanting something to do, so he grabbed a load of luggage, helping the numerous staff with the chores. He turned with his arms full, just in time to see them disappear into the huge, wide-open doors.

Thankful he had grabbed his own bags, he hurried to his own room. Joseph slammed the door, letting it echo down the corridor. He threw his bags on the floor, hoping that she would remember his words now. Still, his heart felt heavy. Was it that he didn't trust her? No, no that wasn't it. He didn't trust the man she was married to. She may be Queen, but she was Rupert's Queen, and somehow Joseph had a hard time believing that she could hold a candle to him when he became angry. He would have to look after her now more than ever.

Rupert was much like his own father, Joseph remembered the former King. He was all sentimental on the outside, but the inside, on the inside grew hatred and stubborness. Clarisse was right, Rupert wasn't all that bad, but he had enough inside of him to anger Joseph. Joseph had all ideas that it would just get worse before it ever got any better. He wondered now if he was truely prepared. He knew the physical part would be easy, if called for. He would do what he had to, to protect them both. The mental part, well, Joseph was never known for thinking things through when he was pushed. He silently hoped he never would be again.

"You look wonderful." Rupert offered her a hot cup of tea that he had made sure awaited her arrival.

"Thank you. I feel wonderful." Clarisse tried to watch her words, unsure of when to really speak with him. "So tell me, how did it go...with you and the boys, I mean?"

"It went...well, they weren't too happy about being away from you. I expected as much. What can I say? I did try, Clarisse. I guess I cannot make up for years of neglect into one winter season."

"That's an honest answer. I didn't expect that."

"While I'm being honest, I should tell you...I'm sure Phillippe will tell you once he speaks to you anyway. I left for a couple of days, Clarisse. I..."

"I don't want to hear about it, Rupert. Really I don't. I respect your honesty, and am glad you told me, but please, no details." She sipped her tea, hoping she didn't sound too rude, after all, he was making an effort. Rupert nodded his head in understanding.

"And you...did you take care of yourself?" His meaning was underlined in the words. She thought a moment before she could answer.

"The question would be, Rupert, are you going to take care of me?" She looked him in the eye, hoping he would not start the argument that was inevitable. "What I mean is, how are you going to treat me now?"

"I thought we had all this sorted out. You are home now, back where you belong. In my palace, as my Queen, and as my wife." He quickly answered her question, leaving no room for her to butt in. "If you're worried about HIM...he's a damn good security man, he stays. I'm not going to get rid of him or anything." Rupert stood and walked around behind her, giving her the slightest notion to begin worrying. It really began when his hands fell upon her shoulders.

"You tensed," he noticed. "You don't want me to touch you now." He left her room to speak.

"No, I don't."

"I see. He got to you." It was a nasty way to stay it, but he was right, Joseph had gotten to her, in more ways than one. "You brought that back with you, even after I told you not to." Rupert exhaled loudly, squeezing her shoulders. He made her tremble. "Clarisse, I've never hurt you," he said, walking around to face her, "but this is one time when I think you need it." His hand crossed her face quckly, producing a loud, echoing 'pop'.

His hand had crossed her face, slapped her cheek, pushed her head back, and was gone in one short, swift movement. She saw it all happen before her in slow motion, even before she felt the hard, burning sting it caused.

"Don't you ever, EVER, give me reason to do that again." Rupert stomped off, leaving her alone.

Tears fell freely from her eyes. She couldn't control them. Her face hurt, yes, but she was crying more for the situation she was in than for the hurt he had put on her cheek. She walked to the bath, needing to know how badly it was going to look. Locking the door behind her, she let herself glance in the large mirror. It wasn't bad, at least not now. She wet a cloth with cold water, and applied it to her cheek. It was sore, and swelling, but not bruised, or at least not yet. Clarisse looked at herself, really looked at herself in the mirror. Physical pain she knew she could handle. It was the other kind that made her question herself. It would be so easy to tell Joseph she didn't love him. So easy, and yet, so hard.

0o0o0o0o0o

It had been days since their return, days since he had seen her. Joseph fell back into step with the ordinary, everyday rhythm of his occupation. This was his third time today walking outside, finding himself under her balcony. The doors were shut, and the drapes closed. He looked up at them, worrying at what could be behind them to make her stay inside. Pulling his jacket closer to him as a cold wind hit his face, an idea popped into his mind. He made for the security room with a passion a child has for ice cream.

The room was surprisingly empty. That made it easy for him. Scanning the panel, he found the camera view outside her suite. Joseph turned it off, replacing the monitor with another view, quite similar in some respects. He was quite certain no one would notice, besides, it wouldn't take him long.

The door opened just as he finished, and a rather big man appeared carrying a plate full of cake. Joseph couldn't help but smile. It was Tony. Tony was on duty in here today. No, no one would notice what he did, probably for days now. Tony settled in his chair, propped up his feet, and began feasting on his afternoon snack, offering some to Joseph. Kindly turning the man down, and wondering just how he was going to hold it all, Joseph motioned 'see ya later' and left. By his calculations that man would be sound asleep in less than thirty minutes.

Joseph made a detour by her doors, just to make sure there were guards posted. Indeed, no one had made it too easy for him. Two guards were fully attentive, and Joseph quietly wished Tony had offered them some cake. He glanced at his watch, choosing to ignore the guards, and walked by.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The Queen of Genovia had spent the last three days confined to her bed, insisting she be left alone, even to her maids. In fact, no one had seen her, not even her own husband, whom she had pegged at being a coward by not even having the courage to look at what he did to her. She picked up the hand mirror again, now keeping it on her bedside table, and studied her face, again. It had become a ritual, her picking up the mirror and wishing the bruising would just disappear before her eyes caught sight of it yet again. She let out a loud exhale, replacing the mirror until later, when she would check again.

Ever so quietly, he slipped through her doors, looking around for his angel. It was quiet, too quiet he thought to himself as he headed for her bedroom. He opened the doors, ever so gently, afraid of scaring her, or even worse, walking in on something that would scare him.

Her figure laid across her bed, still dressed in her gown. He could see the rise and fall of her chest, and he had never been so relieved in his life. Joseph shut the door behind him, and moved over to the bed, needing to be near her once again.

"Clarisse..." he whispered, sitting on the side of her bed.

"Joseph? Joseph, how did you get in here?" Clarisse slightly jumped at the surprise, being ashamed and surprised both. She kept her face away from his eyes, but knowing he would eventually see her and the bruise staining her face.

"Clarisse, I was worried. I climbed the balcony, don't worry, I took every precaution. They said you were ill. Somehow I knew differently. Clarisse, look at me, tell me you missed me." Joseph wondered if he had lost her already. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Clarisse? What has he done? What has he said to you? Please, love, tell me." His words were soft and warming to her, and she felt she could almost cry. "I've missed you so badly."

Clarisse pulled herself up, and somehow found the will to turn towards him. "I've missed you too."

The features on his face tensed as he saw her cheek. He lifted his hand, barely brushing the dark area on her face, almost as if he wanted to dust it off. He nodded, understanding everything now, pushing back his anger until he needed the strength from it.

"You need to eat, you haven't, have you?"

"I'm okay Joseph. It's not as bad as it looks." She felt the slight puffiness herself, avoiding his question.

"I was afraid something like this was going to happen. He didn't let you get very far, did he?" Joseph asked, meaning Rupert had not let her say much.

Clarisse hung her head and replied a simple, "No."

"Clarisse, did he...I know you didn't want to, but if he...it wouldn't be your fault." He had tried to piece together some sort of a sentence or two, but the words had left him, and he wasn't sure what he had said. He shook his head, and resided to hope that she understood his meaning.

"Joseph, ...no, no he hasn't. He's been too much of a coward to even look at me since." She reached for his hand, yearning for his touch.

"It's only a matter of time." He wrapped his hand around hers, squeezing it.

"He'd have to kill me first. I promised you, and myself. I do not intend on breaking that promise." Clarisse looked to his soul, deep in his eyes.

"Would you eat if I brought it up?"

"Yes, but only you. Besides, this will be gone in another day or two." Joseph nodded to her, assuring her he would be the only one who entered her suite.

0o0o0o0o0o

As his anger surfaced, Joseph clenched his fist. He needed an outlet, and soon, before he did something he would later regret. Joseph heard his voice before he even realized where he was. Up ahead was the entrance to Rupert's private office, yet today it was more public, as the door was wide open. Hearing his voice, Joseph envisioned Rupert yelling at her. The daydream was so real, he stood still watching in astonishment as Rupert backhanded her across her face. The anger swelled in massive lava-like qualities, flooding his entire body with a heat that broke him out in a sweat. Without thinking, Joseph drew his fist back, and then laid all the power behind it into the wall outside of Rupert's office.

The wall cracked, and broke, like an eggshell. Trickles of blood ran down the exquisite satin finish. Joseph pulled his fist from the hole he had created as Rupert's words filled the air around him.

"What in the hell?" Rupert's tone was worrisome, and loud enough to wake the entire royal bloodline from their eternal sleep. Several guards approached the scene first, appalled at the sight, not knowing exactly what went on, nor what to do. The King reached his door, and stared at the mess. He looked to Joseph, who was now standing at attention, with blood dripping from his hand. Rupert waved to the guards, dismissing them.

"So, Joseph, this situation is more than I had realized."

"I'm afraid so, Your Majesty." Joseph chose not to beat around the bush. When it came to Clarisse, he was an equal, it was man-to-man, and Joseph had every intention of winning, or die trying his damndest.

"I see. You're not afraid of me, I like that. I detest a man who cowers away from me." Rupert motioned toward the dent in the wall. "The wall ran into your fist, Joseph?" Rupert asked, raising a brow.

"I'm afraid so, sire." Joseph was quick with his answer. Staring at this 'sorry excuse for a man' in front of him, Joseph added, "Pity it was the wall."

Rupert's face darkened, motioning for Joseph to join him inside his office. Joseph nodded, ready to take on the world for her.

When the door was slammed and locked, Rupert motioned for him to sit. Joseph, with his hand wrapped inside his shirt, held onto the anger of the pain, drawing from its' strength. Joseph nodded and sat across from him.

"What makes you think you can take my wife away from me?" Rupert was quick to the point.

"Clarisse does not belong to you. True, she is your wife, and Queen, but her heart and soul belongs to me. I have no intention of taking her anyplace. She belongs here, in this palace, and as Queen. It's her bed I am fighting for." Joseph was surprised at the strength he was exhibiting.

"If it's sex you want Joseph, I can assure you there is much better out there than she..." Rupert's chest heaved with laughter.

"No, there is not," Joseph replied with a stubborn seriousness. "You may have had sex with her, but you will never be able to love her, make love to her, and feel it returned."

"You realize I could fire you, hell, I could even banish you from my country," Rupert reminded him.

"You can do unto me anything your heart desires, Your Majesty. However," Joseph sat up straighter, leaning towards him, "you will never be able to rid yourself of my presence in her. You realize, Your Majesty, that I have worked for you, and your father before you, for a short time, but nevertheless, time enough to hold many secrets inside that could ruin you."

"I see," Rupert folded his hands, deep in thought. "You believe threatening me will work."

"I'm not threatening you. Merely reminding you of my job, and many jobs before now." Joseph was hoping he was getting somewhere.

"You know, those 'jobs' you are speaking of, they would most likely hurt you as well, considering you played an active part. Not to mention that I have power and wealth, and I can buy my way out of ANYTHING. A few of those jobs would hurt Clarisse, would they not? Tell me Joseph, have you told her? Does she know who killed her family? Or do I need to inform her?"

"She's knows I killed her father, yes." Joseph fidgeted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the lack of control now.

"How about her sisters? Did you tell her what you had done to her sisters?" Rupert was smiling now, an eerie grin that masked his whole face.

"No. She doesn't know. It wouldn't matter..."

"You think it wouldn't matter," Rupert interrupted. "Then why haven't you told her? Go now, go give her the details of their death. I remember you, hell, you were no older than I was, I remember you having to give the details to my father. You tried to stand proud, but you were disgusted by what you did to them, were you not Joseph?" Rupert stood, needing a stiff drink. He poured two, handing one to Joseph. Joseph accepted, needing it for the pain in his heart if nothing else.

"I didn't like it, no. But it was my duty, and I pledged an oath to your father. I had to keep it."

"It's called honor. I'll give you that much. I'll tell you what, Joseph. I'll make a deal with you, here and now. Clarisse, no matter what you think, does mean something to me. She was the only one I would agree to marry. No, I don't love her, hell I can't say I love any woman. I don't wish to see her hurt; the other day, well I lost my temper. Surely you can understand that." He looked to Joseph for acceptance, and continued. "Joseph, I am King, I cannot have rumors of my wife and Queen having an affair. I won't stand for it." Rupert took another drink, downing the last of his scotch. "The deal is this...You have to tell her what you did to her sisters. In detail, just as you did my father, and in front of me. I need to know that you did not leave anything out. If the love you share is greater than that, then she will forgive you. If she can bring herself to forgive you Joseph, then I will gladly keep my distance. However, she is to be my wife and Queen in public and everyday life here at the palace. Your affair must be kept confidential in every way. The first time a rumor escapes, this deal will be void, and I will take her as my wife again. Understand?" Rupert held out his hand, waiting for Joseph to accept the deal put before him.

"Yes." Joseph shook it, knowing he hadn't a chance in hell of keeping her.

"Good. Now, go get that hand of yours cleaned up, stitched up from the looks of the blood soaking through your shirt. When you're ready, just let me know."